


Rather You Hate Me

by NorbyToon



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Face Punching, Gay Joey Drew, Henry has children, Henry isn't but appears so, I feel like this is considered abuse, I mean sort of?, I never got to redesigning my henry so, Imprisonment, Joey Drew being a Jerk, Joey is human, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Pansexual Henry Stein, Parent Henry Stein, Physical Abuse, Time Loop, Tired Henry Stein, Unrequited Love, but important, creatorship, do i have to explain why I wrote this, linda is mentioned, no story!henry, or is Joey's character obvious, place yours here!, this is the real henry stein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorbyToon/pseuds/NorbyToon
Summary: After spending years caged in a world of death and misery, Henry had been absolutely convinced that the man he once shared a business with hated him with every fiber of his being.He never expected to be proven wrong though.
Relationships: Henry Stein/Linda Stein, Joey Drew/Henry Stein
Kudos: 19





	Rather You Hate Me

**Author's Note:**

> This would've been done sooner but. The original sorta just deleted itself while trying to post. I was late for class because I had to spend some time crying about it :/
> 
> Anyways, I was kinda surprised that I didn't see anyone write post-canon creatorship. One sided, for sure, but with the time loops? No? So then I did it myself.
> 
> I don't think I'm as happy with this one than the first but so be it.

Henry came to the conclusion that Joey absolutely hated him.

It was pretty obvious, so clear that even the most oblivious people could see it. Just looking at the walls reminded him of that. Rotting and ink stained, ink he couldn’t tell whether was strictly from the machine or someone’s blood. His body was covered in cuts and bruises, also painted in the cold black liquid. He didn’t know if it was red pumping through him anymore or the one that felt like it had always been in his life, no matter if he had left the studio once. No matter how much he rubbed and rubbed, it stuck to his skin, his clothes, like glue.

He couldn’t understand it. Not any of it. Why would he? How could he understand the intentions of a crazed lunatic, to come up with the idea of _this_ nonetheless think it was a _good_ one. It made his head hurt and ache like the rest of his body until he decided to try to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t worth his time.

Was anything worth his time anymore? After spending years repeating events in which should only be a week, it felt like to him that nothing mattered anymore. His words, his actions, they were all scripted lines in a story. A story none of them had the choice to play out, no matter if he, or anyone else that might’ve been aware of it, tried their best to fight against the strings that tugged on their limbs, forcing them to act the way the puppeteer wanted them to.

Joey Drew. Every time that name came into his mind, rolled off his tongue, something in his chest stirred inside him, knotting and twisting as he tried to damp down the emotions residing there because they all _hurt._ What had Henry done to make the man hate him so much that it drove him to trap him here? Was it the leaving? Why? Why did he even care if he left?

He and Joey weren’t childhood friends. They were young men who just so happened to have shared dreams, the dream to create, to make something amazing to show the world. It was the dreams that they decided to start a studio together. It wasn’t about Henry. It wasn’t about Joey. After less than a year, they had plenty of people and money for the studio to manage without him. He was tired, spending nights at his desk with a dry throat and empty stomach. It was only the, what was too good to be true, coffee that kept him going until he eventually gave up.

Didn’t he want that for him? To marry someone special, have a family together, to live happily? It didn’t seem so. Not after this.

So he had given up hope to ever escape. What did hope do in this situation? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The little game continued on, not once breaking. Wishing to be free wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t change anything. It was worthless.

A bright light assaulted his eyes, causing him to wince and bring his arm up to cover them. He’s seen this before, so many times. All he could do was wait for it to clear and for colors to start entering his vision, ones of blue, green, yellow, brown, so _so_ many colors that would be so beautiful to him if not for the fact that what came just a minute after was the same, sepia toned torture he was forced to go through.

Feet dragged across the carpet, staining it with ink. He found it funny once, a small revenge on the man in the other room that had to clean the drops of black. But that eventually became boring and empty too.

He could hear music playing from a radio, filling the room with a small rhythm. As he moved further, he could pick up the sound of whistling and the clanking of dishes coming from an area straight in front of him, and he entered the kitchen. Like always, Joey started to speak his lines.

“Henry, so soon? I didn’t expect you for another hour yet.” A lie. “Now you’re just trying to impress me.” He kept his eyes on cleaning, never once looking back at the inhuman being standing right behind him.

“But I know...I know...you have questions.” He did, but nothing that would be answered. “You always do! The only important question is this.” He knew it, and even if he himself questioned it from time to time, it was Joey’s own. But the way he phrased it made it sound like it was the only one that mattered. Still the self-centered prick he is.

“Who are we, Henry?” Who was ‘we?’ ‘We’ were the people that worked under Joey, the ones trapped in the studio. Henry was a ‘we.’ Joey was not.

“I thought I knew who I was but...the success starved me. Nothing left but lines on a page.” The old man lifted both his arms up. “In the end, we followed two different roads in our own making.”

He brought his left one a little higher. “You...a lovely family…” He brought both of them down back to the sink, holding his head down in shame. “Me...a crooked empire.”

No matter how many times he’s heard this before, that part always made his heart sink and flare with anger. He really had the _gall_ to feel envious in this situation. Sure, he had a family once. Lovely wife and children and _gosh_ he couldn’t even remember his own kids _names._ Now he was stuck here in a never ending nightmare controlled by the one and only _Joseph Drew_ , as that same man got to stay here in his tiny apartment with all the colors, sunshine, food, water, and freedom he could possibly want.

Joey was the luckiest of them all, broken dreams and financial issues or not.

It was a moment he realized that the place had gone quiet, and the person he was just thinking about was now turned around to face him. He had a somber expression, eyes just a little bit down. Henry’s eyes widened, just a little.

“...You really do love that woman, don’t you.” A sad smile upon his features, one Henry didn’t understand. He was stating the obvious, of _course_ he loved Linda.

“Of course I do.” Wait...that was his voice. With his own words! He could…

He could speak?

“Hm, well, that was a really stupid thing to say. You married the woman, after all.” He sighed heavily, slowly. The air started to feel ponderous, a deep, plummeting feeling making quiet the appearance in the interior part of him.

“I know you aren’t straight, so it’s a wonder that out of everyone in this world, she...was the one for you. Crazy how that works, huh?” He huffed out a laugh, though it was obvious that it was not out of amusement. The real reason discombobulated him though.

Henry wasn’t straight, hasn’t labeled himself as such in a long time. There were people here and there that weren’t exactly friendly with him after he came out as pansexual, but his close friends and family, along with Joey, that were always accepting of it. That didn’t matter anymore though. But why in the world was the guy bringing it up now?

“You really had me fooled at first...you really did.” He stepped back a little, shoulders drooping in whatever the man may be feeling. He raised his eyebrow at him, observing him just a little. There was nothing deceiving about his stance at all, nothing showing that he was trying to manipulate or mess with his head. It worried him because if he was being serious then what sort of thing was he going on about?

“Now, I know that look,” Joey said. “You may be wondering, “what the hell is he talking about?” or “why is he saying all of this?” Parts of his sentence were emphasized to show he was talking about Henry’s point of view, and he got it spot on.

“I might as well just admit it, right?” His lips curled upwards. “I’ve thought a long, long time about this. Years. Every time you came back around those same questions pondered me, “Is it the right time? Is this a good idea? Would I even get anything out of this?” and after so much time passed, I finally came to the conclusion that,” His arms went down to his side. “...This is something I should definitely do.”

He closed his eyelids, taking a deep breath as it seemed he was waiting. The moment felt like it lasted forever, with the music stopping a bit ago, there was no other sound other than the faint ticking coming from somewhere in the apartment. A ticking he never cared to notice before. The air felt heavy, making something lodge deep inside of him. It made his heart quicken, dread swirling around in his gut. Nothing felt right about this change of script, words he’s haven’t even heard yet seeming ominous.

Joey opened his eyes.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

“I’m…”

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

“...in love with you.”

Tick, tock.

Henry’s heart came to a stop, head desperately trying to process the sentence that came upon his ears. Everything felt light around him, becoming disconnected from the world and the same words rang in his ears.

_I’m in love with you._

His eyes widened, left began to twitch. Shoulders were shaking, wetness growing at corners of his eyes. Turning to denial, full reject, _nothing_ of the sorts of acceptance at the sound of a crooked, wicked, monster ever having the ability to _love_ , nonetheless someone that was trapped and suffering because of mistakes and wrong doings that was committed by him.

_I’m in love with you._

Lips curling into an unpleasant frown, he took a step forward. Teeth were clenching hard, feeling like they would break beneath the pressure but he couldn’t stop. Brows narrowing, he wondered if the ~~monster~~ man could even see the liquid beginning to block his vision.

_He’s in love with you._

“I didn’t realize it at first,” he dared to continue. “It wasn’t until you had left that I had to accept what I felt. And I did, but I wasn’t really gonna tell anyone that I was-”

“Shut up,” He hissed. Henry didn’t realize he began to move even closer until his nails dug into his skin as he held his hands into shaky fists, black blood dripping slowly to the floor. That blood was ink, a sad truth he wasn’t even human anymore. The one responsible, well, was the same one who dared to say he loved him.

“Shut up _shut up_ _SHUT UP_ **_SHUT UP_ _!!_** ” He screamed. Joey took a step back, eyes widening with fear. Sweat dripping down his face, he lifted his hands up, as if to calm the other down.

“L-Listen I know that may not have been the best thing to hear, especially because you do h-hate me, and I’m surely aware of that-!”

His voice was cut off again, and his left fist started to sting in a new pain. Spit and blood splattered on the tiled kitchen, _red_ blood, and in only an instant Joey was laying on the floor with Henry towering over him.

Coughing, wheezing, he tried to stand up. His body tremored, only managing to get up on his elbows until he despairingly fell back down again.

A sense of pleasure went through himself, not enough to calm down or show it on his face. He was breathing heavily through his teeth, the sound filling the room above anything else. Knuckles bruised and bleeding, a thought ran through his head that ultimately sparked something in him.

_This is your chance. Get out, escape. Never look back._

A new goal wakening, hope shining in his eyes with a smile he hadn’t felt in so many years.

But his legs didn’t move.

Panic, terror, started to overcome him as the feeling of shackles on his limbs came back to him. He tried to fight, he tried so hard, only to stay rooted in the same spot, no improvement.

_No no no no no-!_

The man was finally, but wobbly, getting to his feet. Using the counter for support, he hacked and wheezed a few more times into his arm. Noting that a red liquid was now stained onto the sleeve of his blue robe, he looked back towards Henry, now frozen in place.

“...I-I think this conversation is o-over.” He admitted before he turned into a coughing fit again. He still had something to say, to make sure that Joey realized that he in no way will ever love him back. That no one would ever love such a vile, dastardly person.

“...To be honest.” He soon realized he could still speak, but for how long though wasn’t something he knew. Eyes hardened, voice cold, his next words could finally drive the final nail into the coffin. He wished it was only a real one, maybe then he could actually live a normal life. But even then, it would never be normal, would it?

“...I rather you’d hate me.” Joey’s face never changed, but he could see a look of hurt in his eyes. How selfish.

“Henry, come visit the old workshop.” He stated, pointing to the door that led back to the studio. “There’s something I need to show you.”

Once again, unwilling feet trudged towards the door, never once looking back. He reached for the doorknob, walking into the threshold. The color of bistre, sepia, came upon his black pupils and his ears picked up the sound of the door creaking then closing behind him, instantly locking.

“Alright Joey, I’m here. Let’s see if we can find what you wanted me to see.”

Now, with a heavy feeling lodged in his chest, he continued down the inky path of death and misery of the souls that were imprisoned within Joey Drew Studios.

**Author's Note:**

> Too bad the creator isn't selfless enough to let his lover free.


End file.
